We left Kerlingarfjöll around 8:00 to continue our crossing of the highlands, with the eventual destination being Akureyri. According to the guide book, just off the F35 there was a farm which was - and I quote - "the real deal", so we decided to stop there for second breakfasts. Sadly it was shut, so we failed to obtain any deal, real or otherwise. A little bit further on we found a large hydro-electric dam with a parking area and impressive views. No sooner had we stopped than a large coach with Votre Expert Francophone plastered on the outside turned up. Oh goody: a load of grenouilles, so we beat a hasty retreat.
Eventually we hit tarmac, which was quite a shock after two solid days of driving on (pretty rough) gravel roads. Once the novelty of driving faster than 50km/h had worn off, we headed towards Varmahlíð with a planned detour to the museum at Glaumbær. There was another coach there - this time full of Germans - but thankfully it was just leaving.
Part of the museum had been turned into a café, so - having been cheated of our second breakfasts - we decided we deserved elevenses instead. Very fine they were too; and the museum wasn't bad either.
Unless one manages to pre-empt the inevitable, Icelanders seem to assume that everyone likes cake with a large helping of shaving foam on the side of the plate. I was too late to stop it on this occasion...
Glaumbær is a complex of traditional turf houses, all linked together internally. Only the fronts are made of wood - a very precious commodity - with the rest of the building being constructed of earth sods, laid in a herring-bone pattern, and a grass roof.
A few shots from the interior of the museum.
There was also a rather fine church on site, but I didn't have time to set up the tripod. The interior pictures are hand-held HDRs, taken on the Fuji and processed later in Lightroom.
When we returned to the car park, a new vehicle had appeared. It was one of the fleet of small, and slightly eccentric, camper vans from Kuku Campers. They are very well equipped inside (if a little cosy, it has to be said).
Since the guide book had failed us is in the morning, we decided to give it a second chance. According to the aforementioned tome, in the town of Sauðárkrókur there was - and, again I quote - "an adorable bakery"; well, this had to be the ideal location for lunch.
The guide book redeemed itself on this occasion, and the bakery was - indeed - adorable. The town (Sauðárkrókur literally means "sheep corner") was nothing to write home about, however, but it did have a rather magnificent church (locked).
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